


I Know What It Means

by acesandapricots



Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Biting, Blood Kink, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Episode: s03e16 Blood Fever, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Klingon, Light Bondage, Mild Blood, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acesandapricots/pseuds/acesandapricots
Summary: In which B’Elanna pins Tom to the wall and makes love to him, remembering the time on the Sakari planet (“Blood Fever”) when they almost did the same. Now, it’s different. Now, his strength isn’t in refusing her - it’s in letting her lead.
Relationships: Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958257
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	I Know What It Means

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Kinktober 2020 challenge (prompt: biting).
> 
> My everlasting thanks to [whitmans_kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitmans_kiss/) for beta reading!

They were making out, tongues and teeth and soft lips dancing across necks and mouths; their hands roaming each others’ bodies, cupping breasts and curling around necks and running through mussed hair. B’Elanna’s tunic was undone and practically hanging off her shoulders, one long leg hitched around Tom’s lean hip. Tom was naked from the waist up, his jacket and shirt tossed aside across a nearby chair, his hair standing on end and one hand running down to squeeze B’Elanna’s hip and ass.

“If you don’t gag me, Tom,” B’Elanna breathed between nipping kisses as Tom attacked her neck with his lips, “I’m going to bite you.”

“I won’t mind,” was her husband’s breathy response.

B’Elanna pulled back for a moment.

“I’m serious, Tom.”

“So am I.”

They stared at each other, chests heaving as their breaths came hot and heavy. B’Elanna’s hand came to caress Tom’s cheek, her thumb running along the line of his jaw where she _had_ bitten him, all those years ago, when she was lost to the _pon farr_.

“Or maybe,” Tom’s breaths were quick as he looked into her eyes. “Maybe you could gag _me_.”

A smile. A teasing look. And that’s how they proceeded - with a strip of cloth for a gag and another to make improvised handcuffs. B’Elanna pinned Tom against the wall of their quarters, her strong hands holding down his broad shoulders. She had a brief flashback to those hours on the Sakari planet, when she had briefly held Tom against a dusty cavern wall. Sweaty clothes and dim lantern-light and the life-or-death worry of an away mission gone wrong; raging chemical imbalances in her brain and the unspoken, unspent tension between her and Tom filed to a razor’s edge. Life was different, now. Not only were they married, not only were they so many lightyears closer to the Alpha Quadrant and home, but now she didn’t have to hide half of herself from him… she didn’t _want_ to hide herself from him.

Oh, that first kiss, that dark cave… Tom had shown her his strength and respect when he had refused her as that damned Vulcan virus coursed through her veins. She had tasted him, tasted his lips, his blood, known his desire to take her and mark her and never let her go. Now he had her, and she him, and she ran her thumb again over the long-vanished bite mark, heart full as Tom willingly gave in to the callings of her Klingon instincts.

B’Elanna leaned down and nibbled Tom’s cheekbone, just below the gag. Then she met his eyes, silently asking. He looked back at her, trusting and knowing and _just_ on the edge of cocky. She bent her head again, lining up her mouth to his jaw, her nose tickling against the scrappy fabric, and bit down, hard enough to draw blood.

Tom jerked under her at the sting, but he moaned too, and she moaned with him, licking up the deep red drops that pebbled to the surface of his pale skin. She felt his arousal pushing hard against her belly, could taste his desire coursing through his bloodstream, hotter and deeper than it had been in those caves. She thought she could taste herself inside him, catch the scent of their entwined souls pulsing through his veins. She growled, throaty and deep.

She moved her lips to his mouth, kissing him through the gag. He whimpered as she ran her hands over the tight bulge of his trousers, tracing every inch of his trapped cock. She could feel his heart pounding in his dick, the yearning heat of his body straining for contact with hers. She could feel the trembles of his chest as he gave in to her lead, the flex of his hands against the restraints as he fought to touch her.

She wasn’t going to draw this out. The hand that was still palming him moved to unzip his trousers. With her other hand she raked her nails down his neck, along his collarbone, trailing her tongue in their wake and lapping and kissing at the reddened skin.

When she finally freed his cock, she took it roughly in hand, using her thumb to spread gathering pre-come around the head. Tom groaned, and B’Elanna used her teeth to pull the gag out of Tom’s mouth and capture him in a kiss. Their tongues swirled while she stroked him, Tom’s bound hands flexing awkwardly between their stomachs and his back plastered to the hard starship wall, held there by the strength of her body and his pliance to her will.

B’Elanna felt him tense under her, his pleasure building, and she slowed her hand, bringing her free fingers up to gently wipe the sweaty hair off his brow.

“Stay with me, flyboy,” she whispered in his ear, her touches now feather-light. Tom whined softly, his eyes shut tight, and he managed a breathy, “Yes, ma’am,” in response.

She needed him, now. She could feel the urge to claim him singing in her blood; she could feel a dampness spreading from her groin and smell the scent of her own arousal in the air. Her body yearned for him - for his cock, for his blood, for his fragile, human heart.

She let go of his cock while she fumbled with her own trousers, peeling the black fabric from her skin as she tried to maintain their kiss. Then in a swift move, she pulled him away and down, tossing him to the floor and quickly straddling his hips, his hard cock trapped between them. Tom grunted, but she could see the spark of surprise and desire light in his eyes, hear the hitch of his breath. She yanked his bound hands above his head, and a quick wince gave way to a pleased sigh and that familiar, playful grin. She flashed back again to the Sakari jungle, when in a bid for her life he had offered himself to her. She had pinned him to the ground beneath the trees and had let herself get lost in the tangle of their limbs and the overlapping scents of sweat and desire.

That had nearly been their first time, but Vorik’s attempt to mate with her had nearly destroyed the budding, building lust and love between their bodies and hearts. She still remembered the hardness of his cock poking into her as he had flipped her onto her back, their laughter and grunts echoing in the trees and the fresh taste of his blood tingling in her mouth.

This offering was different; the ending to this night would be different than that day so long ago, when she had fought and nearly killed to satisfy her taste for blood.

B’Elanna didn’t waste her time admiring her husband’s fit form; she yanked his trousers to his knees and gave a few quick pumps to his cock while she released another predatory growl. Tom moaned, his eyes locked on her lithe body, and his voice deepened as she slid him inside her. She rocked against his hips then began to ride him in earnest, both of their backs arching in pleasure.

She rode him roughly, nails scraping at his skin and hands pulling at his muscles. Tom’s thrusts were forceful but uncontrolled without any leverage, but B’Elanna liked that she had to fight to keep him inside her. They would each have bruises in the morning, but she didn’t care; she liked it, liked the exertion and the pain and the proof of pleasure and joining.

She slid a hand between their pounding bodies to rub at her clits. B’Elanna could feel her release building, feel Tom throbbing and straining inside her, feel a heat pulling, tangling, pulsing at her core. She was bent over Tom, one hand bracing her still-clothed upper body while her other played with her sensitive nubs. Her eyes were locked on Tom’s sweaty face, on the veins pounding in his throat, on the beautiful blue of his eyes.

“Do you trust me, Tom?” she gasped.

He cocked a grin, but his words were breathy and deep.

“I’m yours, B’Elanna.”

B’Elanna pressed a kiss against the still-raw bite mark purpling on Tom’s cheek, and then she bit down again, hard, stealing a yell from Tom and causing both of them to peak. B’Elanna roared as heat thrummed through her body, crackling electricity and deep release. She could feel Tom spilling into her, his head tipped back and her name on his lips.

She rode him through her aftershocks. She couldn’t stop herself from whispering, “ _bangwI’wI’ SoH. bangwI’lI’ jIH. choghajchu’_ ," as pleasure stole through her body; from some far-off plane, she could hear him repeating her name, over and over again, as if in prayer: “B’Elanna… B’Elanna… B’Elanna… “

When they fell apart, sticky and sweaty and happy, limbs tangled and bodies limply lying across the floor of their quarters, Tom found his voice.

“What were you saying?” he asked, in between shaky post-orgasmic breaths.

“When?”

“At the end. In Klingon.”

B’Elanna turned her head away but felt Tom’s fingers at her jaw, nudging her to face him with his still-bound hands.

“B’Elanna.”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them she was lost in the love shining from his own. She looked at the man she had married, the man who respected her and honored her and frustrated and challenged and annoyed and loved her - Klingon parts and all.

“I said ‘I love you.’ I said… I said ‘I’m yours.’”

Tom’s face split into a wide grin - sincere and open and happy. Fumbling with his improvised handcuffs, he grabbed B’Elanna’s hand and placed it against his cheek, holding her palm against the bruising skin and drying blood.

“And I’m yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> ~~The Klingon B'Elanna speaks translates roughly to "You are my beloved. I am your beloved. I belong to you."~~
> 
> ~~I am _very_ bad at understanding the Klingon language so fully expect to have made one or many mistakes in this sentence. If you speak Klingon and are willing to provide me with the correct translation, I would be so, so happy to correct B'Elanna's speech!~~
> 
> ETA: Many, many, many thanks to Ariquel for providing the correct translation of B'Elanna's Klingon speech! Their contribution has been inserted into the fic, and her words now mean what I wanted them to: "You are my beloved. I am your beloved. You have me totally."
> 
> (What I had previously written - _bangwI’ SoH. bangwl’ jiH. SoH SeH jIH_ \- actually translates to: "You are a beloved. I am a beloved. I control you.")


End file.
